


All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

by PaigeTurner



Series: Bullet Points [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sacrilege, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8781910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeTurner/pseuds/PaigeTurner
Summary: On the way back from a mission, James and Natalya are stranded overnight by a winter storm





	

11.29.01; 15:38;

55.2947177,78.9790674 (a highway in Russia)

The sky had been the same shade of grey for three days. It blended into the road stretching out in front of them. Everything around them seemed to have faded to monochrome. James felt Natalya press against his back. He turned his head to try to speak to her, knowing his words would be lost in the bitter wind, and felt something hit his cheek.

“You okay?” he shouted.

She gripped him tighter. It was more sleet than rain; the drop stung when they struck his skin. He sped up, hoping perhaps they’d get through it soon. It fell harder and faster. Soon his hair clung, soaked, to his cheeks and neck. The only place on his body that was warm and dry was his back, where Natalya sheltered against him. He could feel her shivering.

James was looking for a place to pull off and wait out the storm, when the motorcycle began to slide. He tried to correct, but he hadn’t realized how slick the road was getting. The best he could do was control the skid enough to dump them onto grass instead of asphalt.

When Natalya realized what was happening, she let go and jumped. She rolled twice to minimize the impact and popped up to her feet, running to the bike.

“Are you hurt?” She offered James her hand.

He shook his head, hauling himself out from under the motorcycle. She helped him right the bike, though they both knew he could’ve done it on his own.

“Keep going?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. The road’s bad. We should find shelter.”

“We passed a little church not far back,” Natalya suggested. She led the way while he walked the bike. So much for the dry spot on his back.

Up close, the church was obviously long abandoned: its paint peeling and panes broken in the stained glass windows. James left the motorcycle where it wouldn’t be visible from the road and joined her inside.

There was no artwork, no crucifix, no pews.

“At least there’s a roof,” he commented.

Natalya stripped off her jacket, spreading it on the floor.

He busied himself poking around the place, looking for anything left behind. “If we had some wood, we could make a fire,” he said, eyeing the stone floor at the front of the church.

“Inside a church?” Natalya replied. “You could go to hell for that.”

“Pretty sure I’m going anyway. What are you doing?”

She had peeled off her shirt and was wringing it out into a basin that had once held holy water. “Wet clothes plus cold temps is a recipe for hypothermia.” She laid it out next to her boots and jacket. “You should too.”

“Strip?”

She shot him a ‘duh’ look.

“In a church?” he mocked. “You could go to hell for that.”

“Pretty sure I’m going anyway. Best thing to do, unless we want to go tonight, is get out of the wet clothes and share body heat.”

James had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth as she shimmied out of her jeans. He swallowed hard and unzipped his jacket. He knelt to lay his jacket next to hers and looked up at her. “You’ve got goosebumps.”

“Do you even feel it?” Natalya asked.

He felt the unspoken attraction between them. He felt electricity crackle every time his hand accidentally brushed hers. He felt a fire roar to life in his chest when their eyes met.

“Feel what?”

She wrung the icy water out of her copper hair. A spot of color in his colorless world. “The cold. It doesn't seem to bother you. I guess it'd make sense if it didn't.”

“I feel it,” he replied. “But it doesn't bother me.”

“Lucky,” Natalya remarked. Her fingers were like ice as she helped him remove his shirt. “If you get some of the water out, maybe they’ll dry before we have to put them back on.” She pried her eyes away from his bare chest.  

He sat on the floor, unlacing his boots while she twisted and squeezed the fabric of his shirt. She traded him the shirt for his pants when she was done. He carefully laid his clothes flat, following her example.

“It looks like the rapture came,” he joked, standing to admire their handiwork. He stole another glance at her, clad only in a bra and underwear. “Are your panties wet?”

“Excuse me?”

“From the rain. It soaked through my pants,” he stated.

Natalya blushed fiercely, her cheeks nearly as red as her hair. Slowly, James eased his boxers off.

“Don’t judge, it’s really cold,” he said self-consciously when he caught her staring.

She turned away quickly. “I’m not.” With her back to him, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You said something about sharing body heat.” He watched, suddenly feeling warmer as she bent over, peeling her underwear down her long, pale legs, her ass pointed straight at him.

“Too bad we don’t have a blanket.”

It seemed a shame to cover something so beautiful. James licked his lips as she turned to face him. He struggled a moment to find his voice.

“There was a sheet or something up front,” he said. He watched, unabashed, as she walked away to find it, then hurried after her.

“James, these are the linens they use to cover the altar.”

He shrugged. “It’s dry. Better than nothing, right?” He took the cloth from her and shook out the folds. “Big enough to cover both of us.”

“Right.” Her lips trembled as they brushed against his. The faster her heart beat, the warmer she felt.

He draped the fabric behind her shoulders and used it to pull her closer. He pressed his tongue into her mouth. She melted against his chest, soft and supple. Wrapping her arms around him, she rubbed her hands together behind his back to get the blood circulating. He still jumped at her touch.

She stroked his back in quick, firm circles, creating a welcome bit of friction. The fabric was thin and a bit rough, but it did it's job trapping the heat they generated.

“You must be getting warmer,” Natalya observed with a sly downward glance.

It was his turn to blush. He touched her hesitantly, and she leaned into his hand, pressing against his palm like a friendly cat. They knelt together, trading kisses and caresses. He adjusted the lace-edged altar cloth around them. “You're still shivering,” he whispered.

“Not from the cold,” she assured him. She carded her fingers through his wet hair and shifted her weight back. James let himself be pulled down above her; her body and hands warm as she guided and urged him on.

The cacophony of sleet bombarding the roof faded to the silence of falling snow. The only sound was the mournful wind and their heated moans as their bodies entwined.

Afterwards, they laid together, wrapped in polyester and afterglow, warm and breathless. “Let's not go back,” James suggested.

Natalya lifted her head off his chest to look at him. “Have you lost your mind?”

“We'll run away together,” he declared, holding her tighter.

“They'll hunt us down.”

“We'll change our names.”

“James doesn't suit you anyway. And get surgery to change our faces, dye our hair,” Natalya added. She began to smile.

“No, not that,” he objected. “You're too beautiful the way you are.”

“Then we'll find a town where no one knows us.”

“Get an apartment and a job.”

“We could fix up this church; get married right here.”

He stroked her shoulder. “Go to some tropical island for our honeymoon,” he agreed. “And you'll never be cold. And I'll never forget.”

“And when they come, we’ll fight them off and run again,” Natalya declared.

He rolled on top of her and kissed her.

“Again?” she whispered breathlessly.

They didn’t dare sleep for fear they’d freeze. They whispered and snuggled and made love again until the sky outside the broken windows began to lighten.

Their clothes were painfully cold to put on.

“I don’t think they really got dry,” James observed.

“Should’ve built that fire,” Natalya said wistfully.

Outside a blanket of snow, thick enough to cover the overgrown grass and weeds, glimmered in the rose-gold light of dawn. They walked the bike out, neither of them spoke until they reached the road.

“I think it’ll be warmer today.” He looked to the horizon. “The clouds cleared off at least.”

Natalya nodded. “This’ll all be melted by the time we get back to the base.” She looped her scarf around his neck.

“Don’t you want it?”

“It’s colder on the front of the bike.” A lingering look passed between them. She wanted to kiss him, but the moment passed.

A few other cars must have passed along the road overnight, he followed their tracks. She clung to him, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun on the fresh snow.


End file.
